


Coming Together

by zorotokon



Category: Pack Street - Fandom, Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Female Masturbation, Gen, Magic, dildo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorotokon/pseuds/zorotokon
Summary: The Nighthowler Crisis is over, but the wounds linger still. It has taken Avo weeks to screw up the courage to visit the box again, and she's only doing it now because Betty said she'd go with her. When they do arrive, they find a mysterious package that has been waiting on the loading dock for who knows how long.





	Coming Together

Avo and Betty stood in the middle of Pandora’s Box, an innocuous brown package on the counter between them.

Betty shifted from foot to foot, unsure of how to break the silence. She watched Avo stew, mumbling grim nothings to herself while tapping her foot. The beta gave up diplomacy, and just repeated her last question, “and you’re sure you don’t know how long it’s been there?”

“Thank you for asking, again, but, again, I don’t.” Avo ground her teeth, “and when I do find out, I’ll be the first to kick the animal responsible right in the tits. This ain’t funny.”

The normally gaudy store was barely lit, many of the overheads still hung empty, their broken bulbs unreplaced after being torn down during the incident. The air was freezing and choked with dust. The aisles were free of product, and the spaces between were filled not with customers but with cobwebs. No one had been in the building since the cops had cleared it months ago, and it felt like it. For the first time in her life, Avo hated going to work.

She glared at the offending package, then flicked the opened flap with a claw when it didn’t instantly disintegrate from her scathing glare.

“Maybe you could get into the store finances,” Betty offered, “maybe someone ordered it before-”

Avo shook her head before Betty could finish. It had already taken her days to screw up enough courage to even pop the lock on the back door, and that only happened today because Betty was tagging along. She wasn’t ready to go into her boss’s office yet. But, well, she’d been to see Pandora.

The Nighthowler antidote worked fast, and she was already sitting up when Avo burst through the door. The tiger was gaunt, and they hadn’t gotten the restraints off yet, but just her weakly smiling face had been the best thing Avo had seen in a long time. Of course, Dora wanted the Box reopened as soon as possible, so now Avo and Betty where here, playing patty cake with a mysterious cardboard box instead of stocking the shelves.

Avo set her jaw against the world. She wished she had brought her lollipops; her stash under the counter had been confiscated as evidence, and she’d never seen it again. She wanted to throw the box at Betty, who had brought it in. Instead she told herself: ‘The box wasn’t labeled, she couldn’t have known.’

So now it sat on the counter, lacking a return address, and without branding besides the claw marks where Avo had forcibly ripped it open. That said, it would have been wrong to blame the container for filling Avo with such vitriol; no, that was reserved for what had awaited her inside.

Her gaze slipped to it, and just the sight made her want to punch someone with their own dick.

“Of all the fucking pranks to pull…” She murmured. It was a dildo, a _ram_ dildo. It had come in a satin bag that was just as unlabeled as the cardboard box. “Someone has to be behind this,” Avo declared, “someone with a really fucked up sense of humor.”

“I don’t find it funny either,” Betty rubbed a large paw around Avo’s back, feeling the bones directly underneath the skin.

“God, just, the fucking NERVE it must have taken! What kind of fucked up animal would send this to a victim of those goddamn speciests?”

“We don’t know that, not yet. There’s no delivery date, it could have sat in the door for weeks,” Betty offered pragmatically. The package didn’t have the look of something freshly dropped off that morning. In fact, it was so beat up and haggard it looked like it had been paw-delivered several decades ago by sloths trekking from a sacred temple in the Himallamas.

“It just doesn’t feel right!” Avo snapped out.

“How so?”

Avo pouted at the question. Betty was supposed to be agreeing with her, what the fuck else was the point of the pack? The wolf had a good point though; there wasn’t anything actually offensive about the dildo. In fact, it was the most realistic silicone dick she’d ever seen, and she worked in a porn store. The one odd thing about it was the base, which was made of painted metal, or stone, and was covered in blue symbols. Her anger was barely justified, she knew, but if she didn’t get angry, what else was she going to do?

“It doesn’t smell right!” She finally settled on.

Betty gave both the dildo and the box a quick once-over, “it doesn’t smell of anything.”

“Exactly! Everything smells of something, they intentionally erased the scent to stop us from finding out who did it.”

Betty gave her a measured look, “Avo, I need to get to work, and I’m going to take this with me. If you need anything, I’m just next door, but please try to calm down.” Avo grunted non-comitaly, and Betty had to cover her eyes to stop the jackal from seeing her roll them. “Remmy isn’t nearly this dumb, mean, or resourceful.”

“I never said it was him!”

“You didn’t need to. Don’t bite his head off if you see him, not for this at least.” Avo grunted again, but didn’t stop Betty from slipping the dildo back into its satin cloth and then into her tool bag.

 

‘Paranoia, and anger, what else could you expect, really?’ Betty couldn’t help such thoughts from cropping up during her shift. There was basically nothing going on to distract her, besides an idiot who locked her keys in her car half-way down the block, and a very embarrassed ocelot stuck in a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs. Damn fool had walked all the way from… Actually he hadn’t said where he had come from, but judging from the mussed lipstick, and a sharpied “PUBLIC USE” above his tail, it had been somewhere fun.

Betty slumped over the desk, watching the clock tick away. She hadn’t been somewhere fun in months, well, okay, she’d been to the city-wide party a week ago, but she couldn’t let herself actually enjoy it. She had had work in the morning. She always had work in the morning. She should own this place, by the amount of hours she put into it.

So she’d gone to sleep early, like always, while her friends had gotten drunk, and partied. She had woken up that morning to find that two of them had snuck through her window and hooked up on her couch.

Betty smirked at the memory, she had given the loving couple a rude awakening, and they had both eaten shit when they tried to bolt and realized they were still knotted. But then her smile grew tight as the rest of the morning played out in her theater of the mind. She had to lend them both a shirt, which were dresses on them, and then given the girl a plan B after physically removing her lover’s tie.

“Oh, goddamnit,” Betty covered her eyes with a paw as she realized the sad, sad fact that wrenching a dick out of her friend’s ass was the closest she’d gotten to some action in months. “At least I’m not the omega!”

The quip fell on a room full of locks, all painfully, gapingly open, unfilled, and unfulfilled. “Fuck me,” she whispered, rubbing at her eyes. She jumped up, then jogged in place for a moment, sucking in huge gulps of air. Next was a brief series of stretching, and then a painful craving that reminded her very dearly why she hadn’t jogged for years.

She grabbed her tool bag, and flipped the sign to ‘Closed’ before slipping around the back for a smoke. Her brand was whatever was cheapest at the gas station, so she’d inhaled a lot of fiber glass and roach poison in her life, but then that familiar burning sensation and disgusting scent would fill her world and suddenly it would all be okay, at least to the end of the stick.

Betty blew the smoke away from her with force. She already tasted like an ash tray, didn’t mean she had to smell like one too. She heard once that smoking was a great way to meet animals. She looked around the lonely alley. Some other animal would have found a joke there. Betty just took another pull.

The stick lasted another four puffs before it gave up the ghost, and Betty had to lean down for her pack again. She fumbled in her bag for it but her paw rubbed against the satin bag and froze.

“No,” she declared quietly. A tiny smirk played at her lips and her paw closed around the bag, feeling the large object within. “Hmmm, maybe. But not here, later.” She jacked the hidden dick up and down before she found her pack and pulled out two; one for now, and one for when she couldn’t get her mind off this other stick.

 

The rest of the day was uneventful; not even a single other customer coming in. Betty gave a grudging nod to the cougar who had the next shift as they passed at the time clock.

The Beta tried the door to Pandora’s, but it was locked. When Avo didn’t respond to her knock, she let it go. Sometimes mammals just needed to be alone with their demons.

She stopped by the grocery store to pick up potatoes and bug bullion for dinner. The cashier was some bunny glued to her phone, but she checked her out after Betty cleared her throat twice.

The sun had already been above the horizon when Betty had left work, and it was nearing the tops of the skyscrapers downtown by the time the wolf arrived home. Ozzy was on the sidewalk, and the two exchanged a quick wave before Betty disappeared into her cave.

 

“Foooo,” Betty blew out the day as she dropped her bag on the kitchen counter. She just wanted to fall into bed and have it be tomorrow. She had work tomorrow, but she had the late shift, so tonight was the closest she was going to get to a day off this week. She settled on the couch, and shut her eyes for just a moment.

She took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose. It took a lot of a smell for it to hit her, and her couch positively stank of pussy. Betty rolled over, trying not to think about her friend getting pounded right here not a week ago. She flipped on the tv, and a medical drama with a lot of kissing and not a lot of horrible diseases blared to life.

Betty pulled a face but left it on anyway. She got up and moved into the kitchen, scratching her lower back as she went. That’s another reason why she needed a boyfriend, so she’d always have someone to scratch the bit right next to her spine that she just couldn’t reach anymore. 

She dumped the contents of her bags onto the counter, catching the bullion as it rolled dangerously close to the edge. She put it next to her tools and left the satin bag where it fell, reaching across it to snag the potatoes.

From inside a cabinet she retrieved a stew pot, and from beneath the pie chest a big yellow onion, then she went to the fridge for a half-dozen other vegetables. A half hour of pouring, chopping, and half-measured pinches of salt, pepper, cayenne, and paprika flew by, and her efforts were rewarded by a stew happily simmering away.

Then it was back to the fridge for a beer, and finally she fully circled her kitchen/living/dining room by returning to the couch. The medical drama was gone, but in its place was a black and white rerun of some saccharine 60’s show that didn’t know how babies were made.

“At least it’s not more fucking _Survivor_ ,” she mumbled. She took a sip of her beer and snatched a half-finished pack from her coffee table. She had them scattered everywhere around the apartment, most of them intentionally forgotten with a couple sticks left. If she ever ran out, a hasty search of her immediate area would turn up dozens. These were a bit smashed, but lit up just fine. She let her eyes close again as the stew simmered, and the smoke crippled her olfactory senses.

“…Fuck,” she groaned and rose, staggering back to her kitchen to set a timer. She leaned on the counter, then let herself slip until her head was in her palms. Something hot touched her nose and she jumped upward, tossing her lit cigarette into the air. It landed on the tile and she stomped it out with a second sullen “Fuck.”

She had barely gotten one pull off of it, and frankly, it probably had been past its smoke by date. She took a sip of the stew, and sighed at the lack of any taste strong enough to reach her. The TV was barking out an ad about Erectile Dysfunction hosted by extremely attractive and happy looking older men. Betty flipped it off for good measure, even if that gray wolf that had popped on for just a second had totally been her type.

She rolled her neck, popped her knuckles, stretched side to side, and finally gave up, letting her head sink to the counter. Her eyes closed again, then fluttered open. She needed to stay awake, at least to not burn down the goddamn apartment building.

The satin bag was lying on the counter where she had dropped it half an hour ago, easily within reach, standing proud and sure, nearly a foot tall.

She had barely gotten a look at it when Avo first pulled it out, and if it was as big as the lump it made in the satin implied, then it would be something worth seeing.

But, she couldn’t. Avo had heaped hate on it all day, and for not a terrible reason, still there was no harm in at least just looking…

Betty couldn’t believe that her paw had actually started moving towards the dick, but there it was, caught guiltily halfway between the bag and herself. ‘You need to get some proper sleep,’ she told herself, ‘you’re going to be seeing things next.’

Betty forced herself back to the TV, choosing the armchair to rest in this time. She had to crane awkwardly to see the tv, but it also didn’t smell like musk, so it was a marked improvement. She idly scratched at her chest, then scratched it again, pulling at the collar to let some air in. She unbuttoned the top, then the second, then in a fury the rest, suddenly overcome with just how uncomfortable her work shirt was.

She had jumped up to rip it off, and since she was already up, she moved to her bedroom to throw it in the hamper. She turned around, the stew probably needed checking, and-

Had she left the bag up on the bar like that? It practically shimmered in the light, all soft and deep reds, like blood, or an engorged knot. Betty reached into her pants pocket and grabbed her box of cigarettes again. They had suddenly lost their appeal, so she flicked them around idly before returning them.

She shifted on the lumpy armchair, trying to get comfortable. She crossed her arms, uncrossed them, then crossed them again. She got up, laid on the couch, got up again, fluffed the cushion on the armchair, and sat down in it again. She grimaced, and reached below her to pull out the ruined cigarette box. She sighed, and tossed it away.

Her eyes zoned out, letting the room blur, and the soft hum of the TV carry her away. Her paw was in her lap, resting on her crotch.

It’d been a long boring day, and her mind was wandering. The ED commercial was playing again, and she leaned over to get a second look. The wolf she had spotted earlier was laughing in a bathtub with a glass of wine in one paw, and a woman who looked about Betty’s age on the other.

There was a sudden tightness in her crotch that spread through her thighs, but was gone just as quickly as it had come. Betty released a breath she had not realized she had been holding.

She tapped her claws on the arm rest, then examined them. She drummed them along her stomach, her tongue working at a piece of lunch still stuck in her teeth. She looked at the ceiling, the couch, the homely decorations, the dildo, her stew, her claws again, everywhere but down. She felt restless, annoyed, unable to concentrate. She got up, and walked to the counter.

She tapped her claws in a frenzied, unfocused rhythm. Her pants felt tight, her room felt too hot, and her paw sat achingly close to her groin. Her subconscious had been mulling this over since she first saw it.

“Fuck it!” She declared, grabbed the dildo, and made a beeline for her bedroom.

 

**Meanwhile, one building over.**

Wolt and Marty watched Remmy’s bathroom door, the first with bated breath, the second with a toothy sneer. They had both been enticed over with the promise of beer and microwave dinners, but when they had arrived they had found the sheep examining a strange ring of stone.

Remmy had said that he had been mailed it a couple weeks ago, but had forgotten about it. Today, however, he had just got this feeling to take a second look. Marty had almost stormed out at that point, but the cadre of ancient runes around it intrigued him, and Wolt was hooked as soon as they figured out it was a cock ring.

The sheep opened the bathroom door slowly, and came out in uneven steps that matched his slightly pained expression.

“And?” Wolt prompted.

“Do you feel stupid yet?” Marty asked.

“It’s kind of tight,” Remmy pulled at the ends of his shorts, “but I don’t feel any different.”

“Maybe you need to activate it, like with a password,” Wolt suggested.

“Know any good ones?” Remmy asked back.

“ _Mellön,”_ Marty spoke.

“What was that?” Remmy said as he took a seat and hoofed around with his junk, looking for a response.

“Apparently nothing it understood,” Marty grumbled, glaring at Remmy’s crotch.

“Well, try again because this shit is- woo!” Remmy shot up, his shorts going from placid to stretched tight as his dick went from flaccid to erect in point two nanoseconds.

“I think you said the magic word,” commented Wolt as Remmy fell to the floor, twitching and rolling in a combination of agony and ecstasy.


End file.
